Monday snuck up on me.
I liked my job, and I usually didn't dread going to work, but I had so much fun spending my days with Isaac that, for the first time, going to work was a bit of a bummer.
I knew there were worse things in life than being separated from a love interest while I went to work, but I still woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. It felt like it was the beginning of a long week, and I couldn’t wait until Thursday night when my schedule was flexible again and I could spend more time with him. I had plans to see Isaac that evening when I got off work, but I had been there since 9am, and I wouldn't see him until after 7pm, and that seemed like an eternity.
I was frightened by how desperately I wanted to see him again, which made my mood even worse. It was alarming how much I had fallen for this guy in such a short time, and I was terrified of every possible outcome. Also, I knew Cindy had been flirting with Isaac when he came in last week, and I already dreaded the time when she found out we were seeing each other—ridiculous, I know, but still a factor.
I tried to shake my mood, but it was just one of those days when I woke up feeling like everything was out of my control—like everything in my life was floating around with no gravity. All this to say, I was already in a somewhat fragile state when Cindy Rogan came into work and blew the hinges off of my already rough morning.
It was just before 11am when she drug herself into the studio and sat in my chair for hair and makeup. I knew this because I had just glanced at the clock.
"How was your weekend?" I asked with a smile, trying to pretend that I was in a good mood.
"It was okay," she said. "I ended up getting really wasted Saturday night, so Sunday was pretty rough."
"She was liiiit," James, one of our producers, said as he walked by.
Cindy smiled and rolled her eyes at him. "If you want to know the truth, I thought for sure I was going to hear from that architect, Isaac, so I canceled plans with Manny. I was a little ticked off that he didn't call. I thought for sure he would."
My heart could not beat any faster than it was at that moment. My blood pressure was through the roof. I could feel my face turning red, and I strategically moved around Cindy's chair, beginning to work on the back of her hair so she couldn’t see me. I was already in a vulnerable mood, and hearing her talk about Isaac only caused me to feel worse.
Too bad that wasn't where it stopped.
"To top it off, I stalked his Facebook page and I figured out that he used to date someone I know," she said, sounding annoyed. "Can you believe what a small world it is? Her name is Jillian Turner. Her dad is Beck Turner. He's a commentator for the Yankees—super famous—he's been with them for years. Anyway, I used to party with her when I worked for ESPN, and low and behold, I saw a picture of her and Isaac plain as day on Isaac's Facebook page. Isn't that crazy? I was gonna comment on it because I thought it would remind him to call me, but it was like two months old, and I didn't want him to know I was stalking him."
It took all of my strength and power not to pass out again. My body still remembered the sensations of that happening the other day with Isaac, and I started to go through those same physical feelings of losing consciousness again, but I willed myself to remain awake and standing. Nausea, brain fog, heart palpitations—my body completely went haywire as Cindy jabbered on about Isaac's Facebook page.
How in the world I could've gotten my heart set on this guy without doing something as basic as checking out his social media. I officially hated myself for falling in love with him. I was crushed, devastated, heartbroken, and raging mad.
"You okay?" Cindy asked, turning around to look at me.
"Yeah," I said, lying.
"Did you even hear what I said?"
"Yeah, that guy has a girlfriend."
She shook her head like she was disappointed that I hadn't been paying attention. "I'm pretty sure they're not dating anymore," she said. "The post was for throwback Thursday. It said something about them being college sweethearts. I think they broke up a while back. It's just weird that I know her. I almost texted her to see what she could tell me about him."
I knew exactly who this Jillian character was, and the realization that she had been in touch with Isaac as recently as two months ago, made me literally sick. I was so nauseated that I could not continue working on Cindy's hair.
I had no other choice but to excuse myself.
"I'm sorry if I'm a little distracted," I said. "I actually really have to use the restroom. I should have done it before you sat down."
I didn't wait for Cindy to tell me it was okay to leave. I just walked off, headed toward the restroom. I didn't even care that I had on make up. I went straight to the sink and splashed cold water on my face—it was either that, pass out, or throw up.
I used a brown paper napkin to try to keep my mascara from running down my cheeks, and I stared at myself in the mirror afterward, taking a deep breath and trying to get myself together.
I knew I shouldn't do it, but I couldn't stop myself. I took my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and typed in the words, Isaac Charles architect Facebook.
I gave myself a few seconds to back out, letting my finger hover over the link before finally deciding that I had to press it and see the picture for myself.
I had to scroll down past pictures of buildings and jobsites before finally seeing the photograph Cindy was talking about. My eyes went back-and-forth—his face, her face, his face, her face.
It was a younger version of Isaac standing next to a beautiful blonde. They were embracing and looking like the happiest couple ever.
I threw up.
I lost my breakfast right there in the bathroom sink.
My phone fell to the floor as I heaved and convulsed.
Finally, after a long moment of this humiliating, terrible display I washed my face again, dried it, and picked up my phone, which was now cracked.
I didn't even care.
I wanted it to be cracked.
I wanted it to be at the bottom of an ocean after what I had just seen on the screen. I was not the type of person to pass out or throw up randomly, and now I had done both of those things in a matter of days.
Obviously, me and love didn't get along.
I wasn't fit to fall in love.
I pressed the home button on my phone, and the screen, which had turned black, came to life again. And there they were, staring at me. I couldn't help but remember the story he told me, and all I thought when I looked at her was that at one time, she had his baby inside her. Even if it was for a short time, she did.
This sequence of thoughts made me throw up again. After that second episode, I did the unthinkable. If I had been in my right mind, I would've never done something like this, but I wasn't in my right mind… and so, I took my phone and dropped it into the trash can. It was one of those thin but deep metal containers that was built into the wall, and as far as I was concerned, it was gone forever.
It actually felt great to do it. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a mistake, but in that moment, I was glad I did it and had no regrets at all. I didn't know how long I had been in the restroom, so I quickly cleaned the sink and myself and made my way into the studio. I stopped at my purse, grabbing a slice of gum before heading back to my station.
"You okay?" Cindy asked.
"Fine," I said.
"You have makeup under your eyes," she said.
"I know," I said. "I had a little stomach ache in there. I ate Mexican food last night."
That was a total lie. I actually had leftovers from my aunt's house for dinner, but Mexican food seemed like a good scapegoat.
"You sure you're okay?" she asked, pulling back and looking at me with a wary expression. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," I said, chomping my gum. "I'm good."
I was so mad that my anger served as physical fuel. I worked quickly and efficiently styling Cindy's hair and doing her makeup. She must've assumed I was sick, because she didn't talk to me the rest of the time. She stared at her phone while I worked, and we mostly ignored each other. I had one more anchor to work on after Cindy, and I finished him in record time, making very little chitchat with him.
My mind was racing, but I did my best to stay calm and pretend everything was normal. I must've done a good job, because after Cindy did it that first time, no one else asked me if I was okay. I told myself cynically that maybe they just didn't care.
Before long, we got busy filming, and time went by really quickly. I acted like I was focusing on work, but all I could think about was Isaac. I knew I could never see him again, and I was swimming in a sea of utter devastation because of it. I had fallen way too hard too fast, and I was livid with myself.
The bad part was, Isaac was planning on coming over to my house when I got off work, and I knew if I didn't call him to cancel, he would end up showing up.
By 3pm, when I went on break, I found myself in the bathroom, digging in the trashcan for my phone. I had to take a screwdriver from the supply closet to open the trashcan and get into it, but I managed. I stared at my cracked phone, feeling like it was not even mine. I didn't even want it anymore. I figured if my family needed to get in touch with me they could just come to my house.
That stupid picture came up right when I pressed the button, and I nearly threw the phone against the wall, but I stopped myself.
I calmly pressed the home button and cleared Facebook out of my browser before going to my texts.
Two texts had come in from Isaac earlier that day, and tears filled my eyes as I read them.
The first said, "Thinking about you. Hope you're having a great day." And the next, one came in only minutes before, said, "Call me when you get a break. I went by the Bishop dealership earlier. I think I might get a bike—so stoked. Call me."
My heart was completely shattered as I typed a text to him. I had never felt so desperate and desolate as I did when I wrote those words.
Me: "Something came up. I can't see you."
I pressed send without even thinking about it.
My body was tingling, and regret washed over me. I was in a haze of self-pity as I put the phone into my pocket. I nearly threw it in the trash again, but I figured I would just end up fishing it out. I set the top of the trashcan in place without bothering replacing the screws. I left them, along with the screwdriver on the counter nearby and walked out of the bathroom.
It was only seconds later when my phone vibrated, indicating that I had a text. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen.
Isaac: "Are you okay?"
I was on break, so I decided to go outside to answer him back. I stuffed my phone into my pocket again until I got out there, and once I did, I took a minute to decide how to reply. I didn't want to lie or to drag things out any longer than they needed to be drug out, so I opted for being as honest as possible without sharing every detail.
Me: "We can't see each other anymore, Isaac. I'm sorry."
I pressed send, and within seconds, my phone rang. I hadn't expected him to call, and I stared at the screen, feeling stunned and unable to figure out what to do next. He probably didn't believe it was actually me texting, so he needed to hear my voice when I said it. I knew I had to answer it, otherwise he would show up at my house and, at that point, there would be no way I could deny him.
"Hello," I said, my voice sounding odd to my own ears.
"Shelby?"
I could already hear the disappointment in his voice, and my chest tightened painfully at the sound of it. I felt zapping, tingling feelings in my flesh on account of the heartbreak.
"Yeah," I said, holding back tears.
"I hope you're not serious with that text," he said.
I let out a sigh. "I would never write something like that as a joke," I said.
"What happened?" he asked. "What's the matter? What did I do?"
"Nothing," I said. "I just can't do it. It's too much too fast."
"Then, we'll slow down," he said reasonably. "Just please don't do this."
"I have to," I said.
In the few seconds of silence that followed, I pictured the image of him and Jillian to give myself strength. "I don't want to see you anymore, Isaac."
"Please talk to me in person, Shelby. Please tell me what I can do to fix this."
"Nothing. You can't do anything. I don't want to get mixed up with anyone. You're in Chicago, and I'm here, and it's just not right."
My words were clipped and odd sounding as I tried to say anything audible past my tears.
"I can hear you crying, Shelby. Is someone making you do this? Where are you?"
I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes and begging myself to get it together.
"I'm at work. I have to go back inside. I just don't want to be in a relationship, Isaac. I don't want you to make friends with my family or order a motorcycle, either. I'm sorry if I misled you, but I can't see you anymore."
I did my best not to, but I was crying as I spoke, and when I finished, Isaac was silent on the other end.
I waited for a few seconds, but when he didn't say anything right away, I hung up.